


Inevitable

by rebecca_selene



Category: FernGully: The Last Rainforest (1992)
Genre: Community: poetry_fiction, F/M, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca_selene/pseuds/rebecca_selene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crysta and Pips have a conversation about her safety.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**poetry_fiction**](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/)’s [2013 Nikki Giovanni Challenge](http://poetry-fiction.dreamwidth.org/36756.html) prompt  
>  _But since i had previously_  
>  _Been taught_  
>  _By you especially_  
>  _That you won't say_  
>  _Hello_  
>  _More than once_
> 
> _i picked a fight_  
>  AND my [](http://kinky-prompts.livejournal.com/profile)[**kinky_prompts**](http://kinky-prompts.livejournal.com/) [table](http://rebecca-selene.dreamwidth.org/94129.html) prompt “002. Possessiveness/Jealousy”

Fuming and standing at the edge of the clearing with his arms crossed, Pips watched with narrowed eyes as Crysta and the _human_ spun and twirled and got far too close to each other for Pips’ comfort. The human had said that the loud banging sounds emanating from the orange thing were considered “music.”

Pips snorted. Obviously this human had no clue; _real_ music came from the forest itself, from the birds and the breeze among the leaves and the steady rhythm of life. Sometimes it came from a fairy flute, too, but always in a way that blended with the forest’s sounds. Never in a way that overpowered everything so loudly Pips could barely hear his own thoughts.

Pips shifted his weight. Crysta belonged with him, not with the human doing human things. Zak had no place here, but Crysta never realized just how dangerous things that didn’t belong could be. Like how much danger she’d put herself in above the treetops where she didn’t belong.

Pips smiled suddenly. He genuinely admired Crysta’s curiosity and open-heartedness. She’d befriended Batty without a second thought, taking him in despite not knowing a thing about him. Caring for him almost like a pet.

But this human wasn’t a bat or a lizard or a squirrel. He was honestly very similar to fairies—at least in looks—except that he had no wings.

And this wingless fairy that wasn’t a fairy was dangerous to Pips. Dangerous because that difference drew Crysta to it like water to the bottom of a waterfall, where the rocks only appear once it’s too late to save yourself from dashing your body on them.

Once Crysta said hello to something new like a human, she didn’t let it out of her sight again.

The evidence danced right in front of him.

Pips growled. Blood pumping, he flew down and snatched the human as soon as Crysta looked away.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” Zak protested, his back pressed to Stump’s solid belly.

“ _You’re_ my problem,” Pips hissed, poking a finger at Zak’s chest. “Why don’t you just go back to where you came from?”

Zak swatted away Pips’ hand. “Well I’d love to, but where I’m from I’d be a circus freak. If I didn’t get squashed first, of course.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.” Zak side-stepped out from in between Pips and Stump. “The point is I can’t go anywhere until Crysta changes me back.”

Pips knew Zak was telling the truth, but that didn’t stop his vision from turning red. He moved into Zak’s path, blocking his retreat. “You stay away from Crysta,” he hissed into Zak’s face, his muscles tensing. Zak sneered and held eye contact with Pips, challenging him.

“Zak?” Crysta’s voice broke the tension. Simultaneously Pips and Zak looked for her. She stepped into view from around the leaves bordering the clearing. “Where did you go?”

Pips stepped back from Zak. “Oh, we were just having some fun, getting to know each other,” he said dryly. “Right, Zak?”

Zak glared, but Crysta didn’t seem to notice. She grabbed his hand and started to lead him away. “Well come on, Zak. I have so much to show you!”

Pips’ heart stuttered. “He’s probably tired. He should rest, not go exploring. He can’t even fly.”

“Oh, is that true?” Crysta asked Zak, eyes full of concern. “Do you want to sleep first? I know you’ve had a busy day…”

Zak grinned at Pips. “Nah, actually, I’ve never felt better. Let’s go.” He tugged gently at Crysta’s hand.

Before he even realized it, Pips had grabbed Crysta’s other hand, causing her to lose her balance. Only the two men on either side of her kept her upright. “Crysta, could I speak to you?” Pips cajoled. “Alone,” he added emphatically, nearly pummeling Zak at the sight of the knowing smirk on the human’s face.

“Oh, um, sure.” Crysta let go of Zak’s hand and, as Pips led her away, said, “I’ll be right back, Zak.”

“Don’t worry,” Zak replied, leaning casually against a tree. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Pips clenched his teeth and flew up into the trees, Crysta right behind him. When he finally landed on a branch as near to the canopy top as he felt was safe, Crysta asked, “What’s wrong, Pips?”

“What’s _wrong_?” Pips exploded. He winced when the surrounding insects ceased their buzzing and Crysta took a shocked step back. “ _He’s_ wrong,” he continued much more quietly. “Can’t you see that?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Crysta said, confused.

“Crysta, you have a habit of finding things that shouldn’t be found. You have no business with him.”

“But he’s so interesting. He’s got little images of himself in his pouch—his clothes have pouches!—and this creature called a dog, and—”

Pips placed his hands on Crysta’s shoulders. “No, stop. He could be dangerous. You…I can’t let you get hurt,” he admitted softly. “I can’t be around to pull you down from danger every time.”

“I know. But that only happened once. I’m careful.”

“Crysta, what about that slithery thing you brought home once?”

“The snake?” Crysta asked, eyes darkening at the memory.

Pips nodded. “Yes, the snake. Even the name sounds bad. Snake. Ssssssnakkkkke.”

Crysta rolled her eyes. “She was injured and needed help.”

“She nearly ate your father! She had poison in her teeth!”

“I know that!” Crysta fluttered away to sit on a nearby branch, arms crossed. “And I’ve been cautious about that kind of thing ever since. But Zak isn’t dangerous! He doesn’t have poison in his teeth, or a sharp beak, or even claws.”

“Batty said he had a little claw that wasn’t attached to his body. But it’s sharp.”

Crysta frowned. “Oh. Zak called it a…a knife, I think. He put it away inside his clothing.”

Pips sighed and flew over to sit beside her. “But what if he takes it out again?”

“He won’t.”

“But how do you know? How do you know he won’t hurt you?”

“I just know!”

“Do you think I’ll hurt you?”

Crysta blinked and looked him in the eye. “No, of course not. I know you won’t.”

“Is it the same kind of knowing you have about the human?” Pips held his breath.

Crysta’s eyes widened, and she didn’t speak for a moment. “No,” she admitted quietly. “I know you better.”

Pips exhaled. He put his arm around Crysta’s shoulders and held her close. After several minutes of silence, he said resignedly, “And I know you. So I know you’re going to go back to him despite everything we just talked about, aren’t you?”

Crysta laughed. She shrugged away from his embrace, pecked him on the cheek, and started to fly backwards away from him. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

With a groan, Pips collapsed backward onto the branch, arms spread out in defeat. “Yes, yes, you’ve done a great job of that so far.”

He felt a weight on his chest and looked up into bright, wide blue eyes. “I promise,” she repeated slowly and, Pips was surprised to note, seriously.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly to his chest before releasing her. She sped away, her blue light growing smaller directly in proportion to the increasing, uncontrollable worry in his gut.

He sighed, waiting for her to return…and having faith that, like always, she would.


End file.
